


A good pawn

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 22:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18600496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: Mycroft and Sherlock play chess. Greg wins.Written for the challenge of the facebook group Mystrade is our division: A fic with the word "Game".English is not my first language, it has been translated with the help of Deepl Traductor. I'm sorry for any mistake.





	A good pawn

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock belongs to Doyle and the characters are based on the series of Moffat and Gatiss.

 

The small room on Baker Street was silent, no one could believe what had just happened.

They had waited a year for this moment. An event as important and traditional as for others was the celebration of Easter or Christmas.

Mrs. Hudson had made sandwiches, Molly had brought soft drinks and John had made popcorn, and they had anticipated what was going to happen between laughs and jokes before Sherlock's offended gaze.

The same Sherlock who now, after a few minutes of being as perplexed or more than his friends, was performing a little victory dance on the table.

For five years now, at 221 Baker Street, all those who were part, in one way or another, of the "Clan Holmes" had gathered to witness a spectacle of incalculable value: to see Mycroft Holmes beat up his little brother playing chess.

They really did it for their own good, losing from time to time was good for Sherlock's exaggerated ego, although later the detective was even more grumpy and insufferable than usual for days and the people around him were the target of their anger. Especially, although no one understood why, the DI Lestrade.

It was "The Big Game" day, as they called it, when Sherlock received a little bit of his own medicine.

Everything was going well.

They were all on the small floor when, at the same time, Mycroft arrived, elegant and quiet as always, and Greg, funny and expectant.

Mycroft sat at the table, where the chessboard was waiting, looking at his brother and not responding to his insults and provocations.

How being so intelligent he still hadn't noticed that trying to deconcentrate his brother with hints and mocking didn't work out was a big mystery.

  
They had been playing for three hours. Three hours of play in which Sherlock felt increasingly frustrated, three hours of which Mycroft could have saved them two and a half, but Mycroft seemed determined to lengthen the game, making some "mistakes" that allowed his little brother to stay in the game.

Then it was time.

Everyone held their breath, smiling. One move. Just one. And the game would be over. One move and Mycroft Holmes would defeat Sherlock Holmes again.

Sherlock stirred in his seat, while Mycroft's expression didn't change, as if there was no one else in the room but his brother, him and the game board.

  
And then, it happened. Mycroft looked up and looked into Gregory Lestrade's eyes. Greg smiled at him, cheering silently, as if to say, "Come on, do it, it doesn't matter."  
But Mycroft's gaze darkened slightly and frowned.

Sighing, as if what he was about to do hurt him deeply, he lost his chance to win the game.

Two moves later, for the first time in his life, Sherlock Holmes defeated his older brother in chess. You could say the room was in shock. John couldn't believe it, Mrs. Hudson was perplexed, Molly looked at Mycroft, then at Greg, and suddenly, guessing what had happened, she smiled.

Sherlock took a few minutes to react, letting his incredulous gaze wander between his brother and the dashboard, and back again.

His brother, who did not look up from the game board.

Everyone seemed astonished.

Everyone, except Greg, who looked at Mycroft with a mixture of understanding, affection and gratitude, and a little smile on his lips.

Mycroft rose with parsimony when his brother began his "victory dance", ignoring him.

\- If you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to...

\- I should go too, would you mind...?

\- Not at all, Gregory...

They left the room ignoring Sherlock and his ridiculous dancing, and the amazed glances that followed.

\- Why... why did he do that? He already had it and...

Molly's affectionate, funny laugh interrupted John, who looked at her in confusion. Mrs. Hudson also smiled at the revelation, nodding her head, while an unusually humorous Sherlock who would last for days lifted her from the ground in a hug.

\- Of course, Mycroft had to lose..... He has done what a good chess pawn does: protect his king.

 

On the landing, Greg smiled, without turning around.

\- You didn't have to do that...

\- I know.

\- He'll spend the whole year reminding you of this.

\- Oh, I know that too. It's going to be a... difficult year.

\- I'll make it up to you.

\- Oh, yes, I know you will.....

They were still laughing when they got in the car that would take them home.

Yes, Mycroft thought, winning is important. But it's even more important to know that sometimes, when you seem to lose, you're actually earning a lot more.

>  


End file.
